Jason Todd X Male Reader

I learn that I've "died" after returning from a business trip. First, my daughter's teacher stops me from bringing my daughter home. She says, "Eloise comes from a single-parent family. Her father's the one who's always picked her up after class." Later, I discover that the password to my house's main door has been changed. To my surprise, my daughter's teacher can enter at will.

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

My wife is the daughter of a top jewelry tycoon. She accused me of pushing her mother down the stairs to steal the family fortune and had me thrown in prison. While I was locked up, her people disfigured my face and crushed my hands—the same hands that once played the piano. After my release, I run from her like a madman. Just like she said I would, I give up and start mooching off a wealthy woman. But then, she clings to me and begs me not to leave.

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

นิยายมีทั้งหมด 2 เรื่อง คือ กลรักรณพีย์ และ กรงรักรามินทร์ (พระเอกทั้งสองเรื่องเป็นเพื่อนกันค่ะ) กลรักรณพีย์ (รณพีย์ x พลอยชมพู) “อย่ามาแตะตัวฉัน” พลอยชมพูถอยห่างและส่งเสียงแข็งปรามอีกฝ่ายเมื่อเขากำลังยื่นมือหมายจะเชยคางของเธอ “อย่าหวงตัวไปหน่อยเลย เพราะถ้าคุณหวงตัวกับผม พ่อของคุณนั่นแหละจะเจ็บตัว” นี่หรือคนที่เธอเคยชื่นชมว่าเป็นสุภาพบุรุษ ตอนนี้เขาทำกับเธออย่างป่าเถื่อนและโหดร้าย เพียงเพราะต้องการที่จะใช้เธอเป็นเครื่องมือแก้แค้นพ่อของเธอ ผิดด้วยหรือที่เขาใจร้าย ในเมื่อเขาถูกกระทำให้เป็นแพะรับบาปว่าฆ่าพ่อตัวเองก่อน และเธอ...ก็เป็นเครื่องมือที่ดีที่สุดที่เขาจะใช้ในการแก้แค้น กรงรักรามินทร์ (รามินทร์ x มีนานุช) ดวงตาของเธอ...มองไม่เห็น เพราะผลพวงจากการเกิดอุบัติเหตุครั้งนั้น อุบัติเหตุที่พรากแม่ของเธอไปตลอดกาล หากเป็นไปได้เธอก็อยากจะจากโลกนี้ไปพร้อมกับแม่ จะได้ไม่ต้องมาถูกคนเป็นพ่อบังคับให้แต่งงานกับคนที่พรากชีวิตแม่ของเธอไป เพราะต้องการเงินมาใช้หนี้